


Stuck on You

by Lexalicious70



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, Everything in Fillory wants to fuck you, M/M, anal penetration, oral penetration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:54:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26918425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexalicious70/pseuds/Lexalicious70
Summary: Eliot wants to try a type of Fillorian "Magic moss" that promises a euphoric high and talks Quentin into doing it with him, but the High King doesn't quite have all the facts about the fungus' behavior.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25
Collections: Kinktober Horror Erotica Collection by Quentins_Quill





	Stuck on You

**Author's Note:**

> I indulged with this one, so please heed the tags. NSFW. Day 9 of Kinktober: The Queliot Edition. Prompt: "It's About Slime."

“El, are you sure about this?” Quentin asked as he poked at the transparent jar on Eliot’s dresser. The bottom of the container shimmered with a slimy goo the color of dried pumpkin. Eliot turned from the bedchamber window, where Fillory’s twin moons were rising. 

“Sure? No . . . but what is life with risk, Q my love?” He crossed the room and picked up the jar. “One of the servants says this moss grows wild in the Flying Forest and when it penetrates the skin, it causes a feeling of extreme euphoria! It’s also supposed to wear off as it dries--an hour or so--no fuss, no muss! Come on Q . . . our royal duties have us on the clock a lot more than I’d like lately. Let’s have a bit of fun!” 

“Well . . .” Quentin peered at the jar one more time and nodded. “Okay. I don’t think you should try it alone anyway.” 

“That’s the spirit!” Eliot nodded in approval and started to strip. “I don’t know if it stains fabric, so better safe than sorry. C’mon, off with your clothes, Q.” 

Quentin shrugged and stripped down to his boxers, laying his clothes in a pile on the bed next to Eliot’s. Eliot opened the jar and shook the gooey moss, which grew on the bases of trees and the underside of large rocks in the Flying Forest, into his left hand. It seemed to quiver of its own accord and then began to spread in a way that was, for Quentin, all too eager. Eliot flinched and turned his hand over to drop the stuff, but it slithered along his fingers and the back of his hand, then his wrist. Eliot’s eyes widened. 

“Okay, uh, slightly stickier than I expected--oh, oh shit!” Eliot gasped as the slime began to move up his arm, stretching from the ends of his fingers. “Oh . . .” his amber eyes widened further and went slightly glassy as a sudden grin spread over his face. He staggered back and Quentin reached out to grab his wrists. 

“Eliot!” 

“Q . . .” Eliot murmured as the slime rippled over one shoulder. Some of it jumped from Eliot’s hand to Quentin’s, crossed Eliot’s other shoulder, moved down his long arm, then encased Quentin’s other hand. The two magicians were now connected by the slime at their hands and it moved like a sticky wave, covering them from their chins to the tips of their toes. It made a bubbling noise as it did so, although it didn’t harm their skin. They sank to the floor together, now encased in the goop, all but their heads. The two faced each other, pupils blown wide with the opiate the moss contained. 

“Oh.” Quentin sighed, then managed to glance down as the slime ate away his boxers, then Eliot’s. He squirmed, gasping, as it formed over his cock and testes. 

“Fuck,” Eliot moaned as the stuff sucked over his cock, his eyes gleaming, his skin flushed, He rocked his hips as the stuff drove him to a kind of frenzied arousal. He tipped his head back, whimpering almost consistently now, and the stuff grew long, firm shafts under Eliot’s thighs and upper chest. The one under his thighs slipped down further and Eliot gave a wavering cry of pleasure as it breached him. The next sound was cut off briskly as the other tendril prodded his lips, then pushed its way between them. Eliot’s eyes rolled, his lips working. 

Quentin watched, his dark eyes half-closed and bright, as he was penetrated the same way. The tendril was thick and rubbery and tapped his prostate, making him achingly hard. Watching Eliot, his big cock encased and dripping, only increased his arousal. The two men locked eyes, breathing hard through their noses as the slime pulsed all around them. Eliot stared, transfixed, as the tendril fucking Quentin’s mouth distended one smooth cheek repeatedly. He wriggled in his coating of slime, the tip of his cock leaking steadily. 

_ “Ummmhhh  _ . . .” Quentin whimpered, his hips twitching, and as Eliot watched, his nerves humming, Quentin jerked and his cock shot hard as the other tendril drilled him. Come spurted against Quentin’s chest and dripped down his dick. Eliot sailed in a sea of arousal and euphoria, his own cock like a steel rod, flushed and throbbing. He sucked on the pulsing tendril in his mouth, trembling, and then his orgasm was an all-consuming wave of complete pleasure. Come splashed as high as his collarbone and he heard his own blood rushing along its pathways inside his body. Muscles clenched and snapped, and the wave carried Eliot away, shutting down all rational thought. 

He awoke sometime later to Quentin shaking his shoulder. The slime was gone--dried up, and all that was left was the sublime feeling of awakening from a post-coital nap. 

“El! Eliot, are you okay?” Quentin’s voice carried an edge of fear and Eliot grasped his hand as he opened his eyes. 

“Yeah.” He sat up slowly. 

“Jesus fuck! Did you know--” 

“No, Q. I suppose I should have asked that servant more questions.” He climbed to his feet and gave Quentin a reassuring hug. “I’m sorry. Are you all right?” 

“Yeah, I’m okay. That Flying Forest, though--Christ!” 

“I guess that explains the name of that stuff. The one the servant called it,” Eliot sighed. 

“What?” 

Eliot eyed the empty jar. 

“Creeping Climaxis.” 

THE END 


End file.
